I do not own D. Gray Man, in any shape or form.
Darkness totally eclipsed the surroundings, symbolizing the depth of the shadows. If Road had the strength to laugh, she'd revel in the shadows' seemingly perpetual nonchalance.
Nobody could bother you, once you're completely in the dark.
At this point, she was little more than a shadow herself, hiding remnants of so many lost dreams. Since her last contact with Wisely, nothing had changed. She, still too weak and Allen, far too gone.
It was almost disturbing how much the void Allen left behind affected her. Road had only looked into his dreams once or twice, but even she had only scratched the surface. Light, Allen walking towards it, while wearing that forever kind smile, forever resting in past and present. Forever walking.
Despite the omnipresent fog tainting the horizon. Neah.
Those times, Road had wished she could reach out to Allen, embracing him. It's okay to rest, she'd have said. Rest for however long it takes. Just so she could see her Neah again, awakened from his dormant state, so that their family can once again be complete.
But, if that were to be the case, and Road's heart swelled at such a thought, then Allen, who for so long, traversed the same path alongside them…
Until now, as Road walked down the many corridors of faceless doors. So many doors, yet they lead to so many dead ends.
Figures, that since humans were such creatures of irony, their dreams would be no different. They'd forget their dreams as soon as they'd wake up. Whatever was remembered, they dismissed as hallucinations or afterthoughts.
Little did they know, those dreams would fester in the deep caverns of the mind, lying dormant until the next night. And maybe, that was where Allen lied as well.
But were they even Allen's dreams anymore?
XXX
Allen moved forward, the scene changing each time. Summer's ruthless scorch. The crunching leaves of autumn. Winter's icy flakes, followed by the murky, lukewarm pools of spring.
One step, one glance, a shift ensued each time. He was everywhere and at the same time, nowhere.
And each time, Allen performed the same action. He'd look beside him, expecting that familiar warm face. The face who never failed to make people laugh, but never really laughing for himself.
But of course, Mana wouldn't be there. The consciousness Allen roamed, it didn't have his Mana.
The shifting seasons moved so quickly, switching from one to the next with no reprieve. He pleaded for a single image to remain, one that could help him establish some sort of equilibrium in this state.
Couldn't one thing, just one, stay the same? While everything else around him fell apart, because of him.
The price of his ineptitude - losing everyone he was close to, who in turn, lost what they each cherished. Lenalee, Kanda, Lavi, even his Master, whose motives had always made Allen wary.
They couldn't count on him anymore.
Even those seemingly against him, he had failed them. Link, who with his last breath, had helped Allen escape the Order's prison.
Even Road, part of the group his organization (former, he had to keep reluctantly correcting himself) classified as "the enemy." Even she had crumbled before Allen, shielding him from Apocryphos' wrath.
It was only fitting he'd lose himself, amidst the vastness of the mind's furthest echelons.
Once again, he attempted to make sense of his surroundings. The elements of the various seasons began to abate, or maybe it was better to say that they turned muted. A groggy air had settled in, complementing the wispy tufts of the grey, foggy skies. Trees adorned Allen's path, skeletons with miniscule nips of leaves that weakly held onto their forms.
His nondescript path seemed to stretch endlessly, not unlike the world he had glimpsed within the Ark. What kinds of doors were here, if any? Road had never mentioned much about them, only vaguely before Lavi was plunged into her dream world. Was she able to locate the doors of the mind?
But even if I found one, he thought, continuing to walk with no aim, would I be able to open it?
Or would the face of the Fourteenth, the mask that Allen once thought was his own, meet him at the entrance? Trapping Allen, if there even existed an 'Allen' anymore, forever?
Then, through the fog of nothingness, he picked up a prickle of foreboding ice, on the hinges of what lay beyond him.
Hardly a sign of optimism, but a sign, and a change, nonetheless.
He started moving towards the vague feeling, a sort of giddiness arising within him, eager to have found something to latch onto. The chance of discovering something treasured.
A false hope, if his existence were to spend the remainder of its days in solitude, slowly withering itself away.
XXX
Snow. A boy running through the blanket of white.
Allen? No, the one with no name for himself, a mere vessel of their long-dissented beloved, Neah.
Road hadn't seen the boy like this in so long. His demeanor, not weighed down by his past and future selves. Just alive and walking, a plain smile across his face.
She must be getting closer towards them. Allen and Neah. Either one or the other. One over another. The one with ice surrounding their door, ice which cracked at the seams, allowing Road, even in her current state, to faintly sense its reverberating hum.
She willed herself towards its direction, only slightly drawing out her power. She listened, waiting for Allen's voice. He was there, he had to be.
But not for long.
Flakes of white, reminiscent of the memory Road had just witnessed, fell from above, before evaporating into the groundless expanse of black. As Road slowly proceeded, the flakes persisted, creating a mosaic of flickering lights, momentarily obscuring the path ahead.
And then, the pretty image dissipated, as the snowfall seemed to split in half, clearing the way for an empty, dark sliver of a path.
That kind of inadvertent path – very rarely does it lead to fortuitous circumstances.
But for Road, fortune and optimism were blatantly artificial sentiments. Feelings that humans cling to, as they prostrated themselves before their God and pleaded for answers to all their woes.
She steered her conscious onto the path. Show me.
If it didn't lead to what she wanted, then it would only prove her point.
The snow surrounding her started to flurry in larger increments, the lights growing in abundance. The shadows of her realm were retreating in earnest. She was no longer on the outside of a dormant dream.
As there was his shadow, a manifestation of grey going against the wintry elements. He was moving.
Even through the tundra of memories, he wouldn't stop, not knowing what waited for him.
He would keep walking, until what? He would leave, and he'd be gone.
"Allen!"
The desperation in her voice, carrying what little strength she had acquired thus far, surged towards his specter.
If he had even been there to begin with…
XXX
Allen froze. A prickling of icy water grazed his face.
R-road…
He almost hadn't heard it, as if hearing his own name was no longer a natural occurrence.
A tinge of optimism seeped through him, a warmth he could not avoid acknowledging. If anyone could have reached him, of course it'd be her.
Or did he merely want to believe that? Believe that she hadn't died back then? No, that call he heard, was unmistakably hers. The lack of any other sound proved its validity. But why?
She was a Noah, designed to hate what he was - humanity and Innocence resonating with one another. But moreover, he didn't deserve to be the subject of such immense concern, not like this.
Only silence met Allen now, as the air grew colder and the fog-drenched horizon remained unchanged.
So why had he stopped, for a voice, a fragrant memory, that shouldn't be calling out to him in such a way?
Shivers crept around his lips, which fervently trembled as he forced himself to respond.
"I-is someone…" Beginning with a whisper, then clenching his teeth. "I-s it you? Road?!"
The projection of his own voice came with an unusual resonance, sounding almost as if it hailed from reality.
Even more unusual was the answer. "Allen!"
He still couldn't see, neither her nor what lied ahead. But her presence, with the same intensity of desperation from that time in his prison cell, was undeniably there.
And right then, a moment had elapsed. Faintly but ingraining.
A smile broke out across his face.
The consequences of his actions in tandem with his existence, for just a single moment, Allen wished to forget. Forget it all. Except for the realization that someone knew he was still alive – that Allen could be alive.
Even in this dire moment, amidst the overpowering fog that taunted with thoughts of uncertainty, there was only one option.
Allen smiled, moving forward with fingers grasped in hope. Because it was there! All it had to do was persist. Even if everyone were to despise him for what he was, as long as he had the hope, the hope to reclaim himself…
Could he?
The singular, intruding thought caught Allen's throat, biting into him with blatantly sour nonchalance.
No.
He had already been cut off, trapped indefinitely in the bowels of the mind.
No, even here, he couldn't lose himself.
He continued to smile.
It couldn't be possible.
He continued to move, towards where he now knew Road was. But Allen hadn't known, not until…
No.
A faint smile, one that only wanted a taste of solace. He felt it morph, its corners pivoting towards a placid deceit.
A smile that merely didn't care.
The muscles stretching the smile spasmed, as the sound of his own footsteps magnified, the feeling of now familiar coldness freezing the remaining sentience of Allen's thoughts.
Neah didn't care about any of that.
XXX
Allen's voice reached the precipice of Road's mind, nearly casting her reservations aside. At this point, the snowfall had significantly diminished, unveiling Allen's silhouette into the light.
Each step he took forward echoed with purposeful meaning. She mirrored his steps, only now noticing that here, she possessed her body, as they gradually shrunk the gap between each other.
The details of his appearance soon became apparent. No longer clothed in the Order's garb, he wore a tattered white dress shirt that had stains clotting the fabric. His trousers, which were of uneven length, were in the same bedraggled condition. His feet, barefoot and undoubtedly have seen better days. His hair, as white as the snow surrounding them, was a bit longer – more unkempt, lose, and free. It suited him, Road thought. A sharp contrast to the blood red cross embossed across his eye.
With each step he took, he looked different each time. Except for that smile. How was such a thing possible?
"Allen," she murmured, the answer already evident.
Allen stopped walking. Though the wintry fog still persisted around them, Allen's figure and expression were fully clear and unmarked, poignant detail splattered on a murky canvas.
That was when Road noticed the smile. The one betraying the body it inhabited.
"Nice seeing you again, Road." An exemplification of falsehood.
"Neah." Not only had that overtly casual manner of speaking been a dead giveaway, but the eyes were all wrong. Instead of openly projecting kindness, the irises guarded the obvious secrets buried underneath.
"Just what do you think you're doing? she asked, silently adding 'here.'
He shrugged, still wearing the false smile. "Thought it'd be nice to do a little looking around." He even managed to make Allen's normally soft-spoken tone come out slippery. "To see what I've got to work with. It's- "
A ribbon of snowflakes breezed past Neah, causing him to shiver.
"Cold?" Road asked, intending for sarcasm, but coming out as more apathetic.
Neah narrowed his eyes, glints of gold reflecting off Allen's blue. "I'll be fine, don't you worry. But I think you should go, Road."
"I'll do as I please," she retorted, resisting the urge to smack him for his condescension. But she'd rather not touch him, afraid that if she tried, the vision of Allen would disappear just like his mind.
Neah shook his head, sighing. "There's nothing you can do here." His words carefully slipped, before skidding to a grating halt. "Nothing you can do for him."
Road steeled her gaze, a metaphorical blade slicing towards Neah. She wasn't sure if he could sense her emotion on this plane, but she won't let her gaze falter or give into his words.
Even if she did, on an inert level, believe them.
Neah then broke their stare, chuckling at her lack of a verbal response. "Hey now, no need to give off such a scary vibe. Since we're both here, having a little chat wouldn't hurt, right?" His eyes perked up with false innocence. "I mean, we are family."
"Is that how you phrased it," she slowly said, this time not bothering to veil her emotion, "before you murdered the rest?"
Her anger charted a natural course, not unlike a roaring river giving way to a surging waterfall. Carrying not overflowing passion, but the highest, most precise degree of truth.
Neah had defied that which perennially tied each of their incarnations – the bonds of loyalty. By stepping on their corpses, both the physical bodies and the symbols of their origins.
"It had to be done," he said, finally dropping his lackadaisical smile. "You oughta have known that."
"No, we were betrayed!" Even in this metaphysical realm, the strain of her yell grated her vocal cords, as it echoed into the expanse of subconscious.
"Yes," Neah plainly said, in barely above a whisper. "But not by me."
And then, the snow ceased to fall, the subconscious' timestream coming to a standstill.
"Neah," Road started, when a sudden movement caught her intended words.
Neah's eye, or rather, Allen's Cursed Eye, twitched, its veins mimicking a jagged crack. His arm, the one that meant to contain Crown Clown, begun to do the same.
"Urgh...," Neah grunted, pulling up his now trembling hand to cover the eye.
"What is it?" she asked. Despite the circumstances of the past, her Noah instincts came rushing to his aid.
"Heh, it's nothing!" Neah bit out, somehow managing to crack a smile through clenched teeth.
She reached towards him, not bearing to see Allen's face contorted so, only to, unsurprisingly, find her hand rippling through his image.
"We're not really here, remember?" He gently chided, despite roughly gripping the throbbing eye. "But I think he wants to talk to you."
XXX
To think that the Fourteenth not only sealed away his physical body, but also squeezed him into the darkest corners of his mind.
At this point, provoking his Innocence was all Allen could try to reach across the void.
Anything to elicit a reaction from him.
Whether Neah felt it or not, Allen's own sensations remained unchanged. Opening what he thought to be his mouth, only for Neah's words, his thoughts to intervene.
Despite his natural aversion to the Innocence, Neah was fighting back. Something Allen couldn't do anymore.
What could he, a host who will one day just disappear, fight for?
His struggle prolonged, the notion of ever regaining control growing more and more elusive.
But he couldn't, wouldn't stop trying.
Not while Road still faced him.
Because despite any reason or preconceived notion, she had come. That mattered.
Unlike the perception Allen had of his own existence, that mattered so much.
XXX
"Allen?" Road found herself asking once more. Was it so wrong to hope that he might respond, just this once? So that he could prove he was more than just a vessel for Neah and his memories?
"Sorry," said Neah, his face still contorted in an uncomfortable grimace. "Looks like I've got to cut our reunion short. You should go." As if he wasn't the one struggling to remain on this plane.
"So that's it then?" she said, voicing it as resignation rather than a question. "Even here, I won't be able to reach him."
Why did you even bother, a part of her asked herself, but she refused to listen.
"The way he's going at it now," Neah said, trying to straighten his stance, "he's gonna wake up for real."
Her eyes widened. "You think so?"
Neah snorted, and right then, his expression of perseverance was not unlike Allen's own.
"Shame you can't hear him," he said, his voice growing fainter as the snow started falling once more, bringing gusty winds along with it.
Road watched, until his figure receded into the dimensional blizzard. Snow and wind cascaded through her, until Allen Walker – his thoughts and dreams, completely vanished.
And somehow, that sight was not as forlorn as Road had imagined.
Let's just say that, while Allen has gone under, this is a brief interlude before he sees Cross/the Campbell mansion on the empty field. Hopefully that is as canon-compliant as possible. I found Neah a tad difficult to write, since his reasons for betraying the Clan are still very much in the dark, and moreover, I feel like we haven't yet gotten a grasp of his core personality. Hence his and Road's cryptic conversation. xD